


Cold Truth

by icandrawamoth



Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2019 [27]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cold Weather, Conversations, F/F, February Ficlet Challenge, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Kinda, Mission Fic, Pacifism, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 19:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: When Nyiestra is sent on a mission with Winter, she's made to question her priorities.





	Cold Truth

**Author's Note:**

> For February Ficlet Challenge day twenty-eight prompt "huddling for warmth."

Nyiestra is under no delusions as to why she was chosen for this mission. She's a decent medic despite having her official training cut off early, but she's far from the Rebellion's best. She's not expendable, not exactly, but she knows there are others whose losses would hurt far worse than hers.

Of course she'd said yes when they asked her. She's never worked in the field before, never spent time outside a base or capital ship, and she's terrified, but she's also determined. Nyiestra isn't going to let fear stop her from doing what's needed of her.

That fire isn't quite as easy to hold once she's in the middle of the mission. It's just Nyiestra and the Intelligence agent she's accompanying, the two of them crammed into a tiny crevice at a bottom of a glacier. Nyiestra huddles at the back of what can't even really be called a cave as Winter, her obvious alias a good match for the weather, stands at the mouth and scans the flakes whipping back and forth with her macrobinoculars.

“Can you even see anything?” Nyiestra asks, teeth chattering.

“I can see enough,” Winter answers tersely. “Our contacts haven't arrived yet. They're late.”

Nyiestra doesn't know what to say to that. Winter had been sent to verify the identities of this group that wants to defect to the Alliance, and Nyiestra is here because they requested medical support. They hadn't given details, though; she doesn't even know what she's looking at.

Winter glances back at her. “You look nervous.”

“I don't usually do this sort of thing.” Nyiestra shifts from foot to foot, the cold making it so she can barely feel the movement.

Winter watches with sharp eyes. Another glance outside the cave and she steps back to where Nyiestra waits, pushing up close against her side. “Body heat,” she explains when Nyiestra's eyes widen. “Supply should have outfitted you better.” She seems to ponder a moment, then says, “I can't have you losing it on me. Focus. What's your story?”

“My story?”

“How you came to the Alliance,” the spy clarifies. “I've found having to stay quiet makes some people more anxious. So talk if you need to.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nyiestra shifts again, their coats scratching together.

“And stay still.” Winter wraps an arm around her, tight enough to arrest any further movement. Nyiestra feels warmer already.

“Um,” Nyiestra begins. Their faces are really close, but Winter is looking away from her again, out the front of the cave. “I was studying to be a nurse on Alderaan.” Winter stiffens almost imperceptibly, but she doesn't speak when Nyiestra pauses, so she pushes on, voice quieter. “I was offworld at a conference when the Death Star appeared.” It's only been a couple of months, and the words still make her ache inside. “My fiance was a pilot with the Empire, but he was good man,” she insists before Winter can object. There are many who assume any Imperial is a bad one. “He had some information, and he tried to defect after, but they caught him. It was on the HoloNet news.”

“What was his name?”

“Tycho,” Nyiestra whispers.

“Dantooine,” Winter muses. “We lost good people there.”

Nyiestra nods wordlessly, fidgeting with her glove, the ring she still wears underneath.

“That doesn't explain how you got here,” Winter prompts.

“I didn't have anywhere to go,” Nyiestra explains. “I wanted to do something that would make him proud of me. I wanted to do the right thing. It took me a long time, but I found the Rebellion, and now here I am. I can heal people here just as well as anywhere else, and I feel like I'm on the right side of history now.”

Winter nods. “Your story isn't so different from a lot of others. There are a lot of us from Alderaan here in the Rebellion.”

 _Us_. Nyiestra had suspected, but she doesn't comment. She understands Winter not wanting to talk about it.

“They keep wanting to train me to use a blaster,” Nyiestra goes on. “Especially when they wanted me to come with you. But I'm still a pacifist at heart. I could never kill anyone.”

Winter gives her a cool look. “You think we're going to defeat the Empire without killing anyone?”

“I didn't say that. I'm not naive. But I don't want that blood on my hands.”

Winter shakes her head a little and steps away. Cold air blows between them, and Nyiestra shivers. Winter pulls out her own blaster, and Nyiestra thinks she's trying to make a point. “Sentiments like that are all very noble, but you'll see the truth of it soon enough. You need to be able to protect yourself and others, or someone else you love is going to get killed.”

Nyiestra bristles, but before she can anything else, Winter barks, “ _Stay here_ ,” and dashes outside. Heart racing, Nyiestra moves forward to the mouth of the cave, but the other woman has already disappeared into the swirling snow.

She strains her eyes and still can't see anything, until a moment later laser blasts are zinging through the air some distance away, a light show against the blowing whine. Nyiestra grits her teeth and flinches back, Winter's words of just a few moments earlier ringing back at her. She couldn't help even if she wanted to.

A quiet explosion carries to her on the wind, and soon half a dozen forms begin to emerge from the blizzard. Nyiestra half-panics, trying to decide what she's going to do, until the sees that Winter is leading them.

“Spy droid,” the woman explains when she and the contacts are close enough. “If you'd been able to shoot, I would have taken you with me, and you could have helped. As it is, we have more injuries to deal with.” She gestures behind her to the others, half of them limping and being assisted by cohorts, and Nyiestra immediately begins cataloging injuries and planning treatments.

“You can treat them back on the shuttle,” Winter says, “we need to get out of here before that droid's friends show up.”

 

Later, their new friends identified and their injuries stabilized, Nyiestra joins Winter in the cockpit. She hasn't been able to get the things the woman said to her earlier out of her head.

“Do you really think so little of me for not wanting to kill?”

Winter swivels to face her, an odd expression on her face. “I think it can be hard to face reality,” she says slowly. “You have strong morals, and that has to be respected. But you must be practical, too. In your position, it's unlikely you'll need them, but having a baseline of defense skills could save your life or someone else's one day. What if it's your patients that need protecting, and you're their last defense?”

Nyiestra frowns, picturing it. “I still don't like it, but I can't argue. It wouldn't hurt for me to learn. After all, I'd only be shooting targets. That's not hurting anyone.”

“It's a start,” Winter agrees, and she gives Nyiestra a small smile.

Nyiestra isn't sure why that little bit of approval seems to melt the lingering cold in her body.


End file.
